


The Old Mill House

by alchemise



Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: Gen, Yuletide Treat, magical objects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:33:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28255470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemise/pseuds/alchemise
Summary: The Mill House knew the truth, however, and it was not at all a humorous story.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	The Old Mill House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Galadriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel/gifts).



John was speaking, as was usual. “Chas, mate, you remember Jasper’s story about the magical boar that chased him around the mill?”

“Oh yeah! That was a good one. Although, knowing Jasper, it was probably mostly bullshit. You should tell it to Zed.”

“Tell what to me?” Zed spoke to them from the kitchen, where she was retrieving yet more drinks for the three of them. “Also, all you’ve got left is some swill beer, so I hope that’ll do.”

“Perfect, love. Just that kind of night.”

Zed rejoined the other two, and John stood to begin his story, obviously shooting for as much theatrics as he could. “According to Jasper, he wasn’t actually trying to summon a giant feral hog from hell, but that was what he ended up with.”

Zed looked amused and dubious: usually a wise reaction to one of John’s stories.

“It was a mighty beast, yanked straight from hellfire and torment. Tusks as long as your arm, as sharp as razor blades. Eyes filled with fire and breath so acrid it burned your lungs if you got too near. Jasper did the only thing he could; he ran like hell.” The physicality of John’s storytelling increased as he went, until he was practically acting out Jasper’s role.

Both Zed and Chas laughed at the image and the telling of the tale.

The Mill House knew the truth, however, and it was not at all a humorous story.

It hadn’t been a boar, for one. There were aspects of it that were boar-like, and those must have given Jasper’s mind something comprehensible to cling to, because every time he’d told the story within the Mill House, he’d called it a giant boar.

What it actually was, the Mill House had no name for. It wasn’t in any of Jasper’s books. The Mill House had checked, after. It was definitely from hell, though. A beast like that had no place on Earth.

Jasper had, in fact, ran from it. The Mill House had helped him, guiding him in its subtle way toward the southern hall—the endless southern hall. There were solutions to many problems in that hall. If you could find them. And if you could make it back out alive.

As he ran, with the beast gaining ever closer, the Mill House came up with a plan. It opened a door to a room it knew Jasper had never been in, one of the few innocuous-looking ones in that hall, that had once been a quiet study. Once. It still had a plush chair and a bookcase, though all the books had long since made their way elsewhere. The room wasn’t original to the mill house; it had shown up with many others due to the changes Jasper had made to the mill. It was safe enough though, if he didn’t stay too long in it, if he ignored the sounds coming from the walls.

Jasper had thrown himself through the door and into the study. Just as he did, the Mill House switched that door with another one, that led to a not so innocuous room. The beast burst into this new room instead.

It didn’t last long in there.

*****

The waterwheel turned.

*****

The Mill House wasn’t as old as it seemed. When Jasper had found it, it had just been a rundown old mill but filled with untapped potential. He’d brought it alive, with books, artifacts, and magic. They had changed the Mill House, made it older, deeper, aware.

Thankfully, for those souls who resided within it, the magic Jasper brought to the mill was more good than evil.

The Mill House had only vague memories of its time before, when it was just a mill. The mill parts remained, although only the waterwheel was active anymore. The Mill House sometimes wondered what it would feel like to turn everything on again, return to being such a power source for human endeavors, an example of their mechanical ingenuity.

Those times had been much simpler. But also much less interesting.

*****

The Mill House knew things it should not know. It had become infused with the magic Jasper and now John had brought into it. It had gained awareness and the ability to change things about itself. It had opinions now and the power to manipulate itself and all that lay within it in the ways it desired.

It couldn’t do everything, though.

John possessed a ring, once held by a sorcerer named Eruzin. The ring itself was not particularly noteworthy. It was mentioned in a book on forgotten magical artifacts that the Mill House had fully absorbed the contents of, until even the ink that someone had once written onto its pages was gone. The Mill House hadn’t actually meant to do that, and that was the last time it consumed a book in that way. It didn’t particularly matter though, as the ring had little ability to do harm, on its own.

What John didn’t seem to be aware of, however, and the Mill House didn’t fully understand, as it hadn’t been in the book, was that the ring had a twin. A twin and opposite ring. That one had power, great and terrible power.

It was related to Eruzin’s ring in some way, as it gave off a similar energy, just one that had been twisted into something malevolent.

The Mill House knew this because that second ring was currently lodged behind a bookcase, where Jasper had once accidentally knocked it and then seemed to forget about it. The Mill House thought this may have been by the ring’s design.

There it sat, glowing with its horribly unseeable energy, ever pulling the ring of Eruzin closer to it. The Mill House tried to warn John, distracting him away from that bookcase when he had the ring out. It even tried to hide the second ring further, bury it into the house itself, but it wouldn’t budge. It was too heavy for the Mill House to move.

Eventually, this was going to be a serious problem.

*****

The waterwheel turned.

*****

The Mill House liked Chas. He was honest and good and emanated life. More life than he should have, of course, but that wasn’t his fault. The Mill House respected him for using all those lives in the name of helping people. He was a comforting presence.

*****

The Mill House also liked Zed. Like Chas, she too radiated something, but in this case it was power. Real power, not bestowed by a spell or artifact, but internal to her. It was who she was.

The Mill House learned that her original name was Mary, but it never thought of her by that. Names had power, and she had chosen “Zed,” so that was who she would be.

When Zed’s former family—and now enemies—came for her, the Mill House wanted to scream in anger. Instead, it used what power it had to make her safe, even if it ultimately failed.

It had shown her the door to the void, as a precaution, just in case. Just in case such a thing—a trap—might ever be needed. The Mill House felt the void consume the soul of the woman Zed shoved into it. 

The Mill House felt satiety.

*****

The Mill House hadn’t made up its mind about John. He brought chaos with him, pain and loss, but also new friends, lives to the mill. He was louder than Jasper, in every way.

John didn’t go into the southern hall. The Mill House thought him wise for that. There were too many temptations, too much danger, down there. 

There was also a door that even the Mill House didn’t know what lay beyond. Whatever was in that room hadn’t been there when the mill was built, and it hadn’t come with the others through Jasper’s magic. Instead, it had appeared on its own, after Jasper’s death. It was just suddenly part of everything else in the southern hall.

The Mill House was scared of it.

Someday, John’s curiosity or desperation would win out and he’d go exploring. He’d find that door and open it. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself, this the Mill House knew.

This was also going to be a serious problem.

*****

The waterwheel turned.

*****

John was alone in the Mill House. That was usually a cause for concern, as he was safest when he had the company of others to occupy his attention.

The Mill House wasn’t worried that night, though.

He was fiddling with the Sphere of Nanael, but the Mill House knew the worst he’d manage with it was a bad headache or minor burn. John lacked the catalyst to fully activate the sphere, thankfully.

John seemed to be in a contemplative mood. He’d stood in front of Jasper’s mirror earlier. The Mill House liked that mirror. It helped keep the memory of Jasper alive. John had watched the mirror for a while, not saying anything and not appearing to look for anything in particular, either. The Mill House wondered if he too just missed the man sometimes. That did seem rather human.

Now John sat at the giant wheel and gears of the mill that he’d appropriated as a table, as he played around with the trinket of an angel.

“I wonder what you are. You watch out for all of us, don’t you?” It looked like John was speaking to the sphere, but the Mill House knew that didn’t make sense; that was not where the sphere’s abilities lay.

John continued. “Did Jasper make you this way? Or is it something about how you were built before all this magic shite?”

The Mill House understood, although it didn’t entirely know the answer to his question.

“I know what you did for Zed, when those bastards came for her. You tried to stop them from taking her.” John finally looked up, at all the space around. “Thank you for that. She means a lot.”

Then his voice changed emotions, turning steely. “It’s not done yet though, none of this. They’ll be back for Zed, and worse is coming yet. We’ll need you ready.”

The Mill House had always intended to continue helping those who living within its walls, but it was surprised to be asked so directly. It creaked some of its wooden beams in response, which, judging by the look on John’s face, he hadn’t been expecting. When the time came to fight again, it would be ready.


End file.
